


Fallen Angel

by Listenerofshadows



Series: Sander Sides One-Shots [11]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Crying, Fantasy AU, Gen, Mild Use of Profanity, Patton is an angel in need of hugs, Wounds TW, blood mention, not an actual angel but close to it ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: “Just so we are clear, you didn’t stab this person.”When a half-dead stranger knocks on Roman's door for help, he rushes them to Virgil, the local mage. Virgil's not quite convinced Roman isn't at fault for their injuries. Fantasy AU





	Fallen Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt fic from Tumblr that accidentally grew into an oneshot, whoops.
> 
> Warnings: Blood, vague descriptions of wounds, crying, mild profanity

“Just so we are clear, you didn’t stab this person.”

“Do you think so lowly of me to stab a random citizen?!” Roman cried out, aghast.

“Well I don’t know, Princey, you sure are fond of waving that sword of yours around,” Virgil retorted, “Please, I need to know if my best friend attempted murder or not.”

“No, I didn’t, I swear!” Roman pleaded, “I heard frantic knocking on my door and when I opened it, he was standing there. He asked me for help before he fell unconscious. Can you save him or not?”

Virgil looked down on the man lying on the table. Roman had came to his cottage in a panic, cradling the bleeding man in his arms. Virgil immediately directed him inside, and once the man was placed on the table, Roman collapsed on the floor. His lungs heaved as he tried to regain his breath after sprinting half a mile carrying a person. Meanwhile Virgil focused on stopping the man’s bleeding, biding his time until Roman caught his breath to ask his question.

The man looked like, well, shit. There wasn’t a better way to describe someone on the verge of death. There was a large gaping stab wound in his chest, and his arms were covered in several other nasty little cuts. His skin was bordering on transcendent—Virgil could almost see his blood veins. His mousy brown hair was caked with sweat combined with blood. Although there were thankfully no wounds on his head. He wore plain grey robes with a robin blue cloak. But the most impressive features the man possessed was the wings.

They were grey with gorgeous blue under-feathers. Their beauty was undermined by the fact that they were pitifully small, much too tiny for him to achieve actual flight. In all his years as a mage, he had never come across a human being with wings. He had seen plenty of fae, but this man wasn’t a fae but not quite human either. He was something different, and that terrified Virgil a bit. But else was new? The unknown always scared him. It was why he preferred to remain in his little cottage while other mages like Logan loved to explore the world.

“Yes, I can.” Virgil answered at last, “It’s going to take up a lot of my mana, though, so don’t be alarmed if I faint shortly after.”

Virgil closed his eyes, breathing, before he began the incantation. It wasn’t one he used often, but that was mainly because the village he lived nearby was mostly peaceful. There was the occasional farm injury, sure, but he mostly dealt with illnesses. In exchange for his services, the villagers paid him in herbs and food. It didn’t take much to keep Virgil happy.

He stretched his hands out towards the stranger on the table and a soft violet glow emitted from his fingertips. The physical manifestation of his magic reached out to the man, slowly starting to regenerate the area around his chest wound. Virgil could tell though it wasn’t enough. He started chanting louder, letting more energy pour from his hands. He almost flinched when he felt the man’s soul waver.

No. He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t lose him.

He pressed further, pulling forth from his magic reserves. The wound was almost healed, he needed just a bit more, he needed to push for just a bit more longer—

He felt himself start to fade away, when a hand grabbed his shoulder, disrupting his concentration. He dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

“Virgil!” Roman gasped, his voice raw from yelling, “that’s enough!”

“Roman please, let me finish it—”

“Did you not hear me shouting at you at all?” Roman interrupted, “You almost died!”  
Virgil glared at his best friend, “I did not! I had it under control—”

“Ex—excuse me,” A timid voice interrupted, “where exactly am I?”

Shocked, both of them turned to see their guest sitting up on the table. He gave them a smile, but his eyes flickered hesitantly between the two. Virgil’s gaze trailed down to look at the chest wound, where it was now a big red angry mark. The marks on his arms were mostly faded due to the accelerated healing courtesy of Virgil’s magic.

He swallowed. He hated to admit it, but Roman was right. He may have tried to accomplish too much in one night. He needed to only stabilize the stranger, not heal him to near perfect health.

“You’re here in my cottage,” Virgil said, “my name is Virgil, and this oaf is Roman, do you remember him?”

Roman made a disgruntled sound at being labelled as an oaf, but Virgil elbowed him to keep quiet. He immediately regretted that decision as a wave of nausea hit him. Yup. He was definitely starting to feel the effects of magic deprivation.

The man studied Roman closely for a moment before recognition lit his eyes.

“You were the one at the door…” His voice trailed off into a whisper, “I—I didn’t think you’d help me.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I help you? A hero always helps those in need!” Roman proclaimed loudly, “although I must admit, it was Virgil’s magical prowess that saved your life. Might I ask what your name is?”

Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman’s antics. As the Lord over this village and the other villages that surrounded it, he took great pride in looking after his citizens. Except he tended to be very…extravagant about it.

“Patton—my name is Patton,” His eyes watered up with tears, “Thank you—thank you so much. Both of you.”

Patton trembled, feathers shaking, as he withheld a sob. Virgil and Roman shared worried glances with one another. Roman ventured near him, placing a careful hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s alright. You can cry if you need to.”

With that, Patton launched himself at Roman, clinging to his frame as he sobbed into Roman’s chest. Roman held on just as tightly, murmuring encouragements to him.

“Shh, you’re okay—you’re safe with us now. Let it all out, it’s okay.”

This was the last thing Virgil remembered before he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

He couldn’t tell how much time at passed, but the sunbeam of light hitting his face told him it was at least morning. He groaned, attempting to shield the light with his hand.

“Hey Roman, I think Virgil’s awake!” A voice excitedly called out.

Someone moved to stand over him and blearily, Virgil opened his eyes.

“Hello!” Patton exclaimed, looking like a beam of sunshine himself.

“About damn time you woke up!” Roman strolled towards him, with a grin adorning his face.

“Language!” Patton playfully swatted at Roman’s arm.

“Ahh, I apologize dear Patton.”

The two looked at one another before bursting into laughter.

“How long was I out?” Virgil asked, eying the pair carefully.

“Around five days,” Roman informed him, “I was almost worried if you were ever going to wake up.”

“Sh—shitake!” Virgil changed his wording midsentence when he saw the warning look on Patton’s face. Apparently, he was not kidding around about that.

“Well, now that you’re up, you can enjoy some of the breakfast I made!” Patton declared, as he skipped off to the fireplace where something brewed in a pot above the fire.

“Patton’s awfully cheery.” Virgil remarked to Roman.

“He’s one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met,” Roman said, “I can’t fathom why anyone would want to harm him.”

“Has he not told yet what happened?”

“He’s been reluctant to share, which is—understandable,” Roman sighed, “but he finally promised me he’d share once you were awake.”

They ate breakfast near Virgil’s cot, as both Patton and Roman insisted he needed to stay on bed rest for a little while longer. Virgil protested, although he knew he would demand the same in their situation. Once breakfast was finished and the dishes were stacked together to be washed later, a silence entered the cottage as laughter from pleasantries died down. Roman bounced his leg in anticipation, impatient to hear what happened to Patton. Virgil laid quietly in his cot, content to wait until Patton was comfortable to share.

Patton’s wings twitched before he leaned forward, indicating he was ready to share.

“My people live in the mountains high above this village,” Patton began, “I don’t think humans have a name for us, as we tend to keep to ourselves. The elders forbade contact with outsiders.”

“If they forbade contact, how do you know our language then?” Roman asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Because I’d sneak down the mountain when I wasn’t supposed to,” Patton sheepishly admitted, “perhaps it was wrong of me, but I was curious! I wanted to meet those who dwell on land—I knew your people couldn’t be as bad as the elders painted you out to be! Besides, in my people’s eyes…I was seen as a cripple. I can’t fly with my wings, meaning I can’t hunt as effectively as my brethren can.

“But below the mountain I knew there were people just like me who couldn’t fly. I wanted to meet them so badly. So I took a cloak to hide my wings and traveled down the mountain. I only meant to visit once. But it was so wonderful, that I kept returning and eventually I learned your language almost better than my own!

“It was easy to sneak off as my people didn’t care about my whereabouts. Because of that…I grew too confident in my ability to sneak away. Fi—five days ago, my brother started to follow my whereabouts and discovered what I’d been doing.”

Patton paused, a sob wretched his throat.

“He—he attacked me with his hunting knife and then ordered me to never show my face in the mountains again. I grabbed his arm to plead with him and, and that’s when he stabbed me in the chest. I finally fled from his presence afterwards.”

He turned to face Roman, “and that’s when I stumbled across your home.”

“That’s…” Virgil shook his head, “that’s awful Patton.”

“That’s it, we are your family now!” Roman declared.

“Wh—what?!” Patton yelped.

“You deserve to have a family that loves and appreciates you for what you are. Not a family that scorns you for things you cannot help,” Virgil said, “that is, if you want—”

“Yes!” Patton cried out, tears streaming down his face, “Yes I want that more than anything!”

“Excellent!” Roman roared, sweeping Patton off his feet to twirl him around. Virgil grinned at the admittedly adorable sight. 

For the first time in his life, Patton was soaring.


End file.
